The Witching Hour - Lloyd Cole

I was cleaning out the ashtrays

I was easily impressed

Understanding Matthew’s cigarettes

I was eating all his glamour

His pills and his garbage

You might say that I swallowed it all

Matt’s out in the garden

Sowing seeds of discontent

And he’s working for that magazine again

Me, I’m out in the world

Tring to meet my payments girl

He’s back in the closet where it’s '57

When you call my name

It’s the witching hour, I know

Now I’m walking down 4th street

You pass me by, you don’t even speak

And it looks just like a spit in the eye

Well sister, I’m out in the world

Yes, I meet my payments girl

You’re back in the closet where it’s '57

When you call my name

It’s the witching hour, I know